


All Buttoned Up

by theheartbelieves



Category: Where the Truth Lies (2005)
Genre: Break Up, Drunken Confessions, Fix-It, Lanny opens his gd eyes, M/M, Revelations, Sharing a Bed, Vince POV, Vinny - Freeform, post investigation, sober actions, vince is a goddamn saint yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 10:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14616758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheartbelieves/pseuds/theheartbelieves
Summary: Everything must have a beginning and an end.Vince visited Lanny to say goodbye; to put an end to things. What he didn't expect was that it might be the beginning of something completely new.





	All Buttoned Up

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by passages from the Richard Siken poem, Wishbone
> 
> Un-betaed. Again. SORRY.

_Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me, we can leave our_

_clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?_  
  


_ But we both knew we were finished. _ _  
_ _ The marriage was over _ _. _

Of course in reality, it wasn’t that simple. Like any divorce, there was the messy separating of joint assets and cancelling of future plans, all while keeping a brave face. Ostensibly, they used the investigation as their excuse. They never mentioned that they were dissolving the partnership, just that they were going on an indefinite hiatus.

In the end, like with all break-ups, Vince found himself on Lanny’s doorstep with a box of the man’s things: spare clothes, a book, borrowed LPs, and finally - and most devastatingly - Vince’s copy of the key to Lanny’s house.

Returning that key was the final period in the book of their relationship.

Lanny had given Vince that key the day he’d bought the place, with the money from their first successful tour. Full circle, Vince thought as he rang the doorbell and waited for Lanny one last time.

He’d waited until late to drop by, unannounced. He didn’t want any chance of making a scene. This felt like a deed for darkness. Just seeing Lanny again after weeks of nothing- Vince couldn’t bear the possibility of witnesses.

The bolt slid suddenly, startling Vince. He hadn’t heard Lanny approach, but there he was, illuminated by the warm glow of the porch light. Even now, after everything, Vince’s heart stuttered.

Lanny was barefoot, wearing a cotton tee shirt and jeans so old, they were nearly white. He looked soft and so unlike his usual self. He was blurred at the edges.

“Vin,” Lanny said, unsurprised, and even his voice was soft and slurred. He was drunk. “Come on in.”

Lanny stepped back and gestured in welcome. It wasn’t what Vince had expected. He’d been prepared for tense silence, for bitter recriminations, for blame and harsh words. He wasn’t at all ready for  _ this _ .

“I just-” he began, but Lanny levelled sad, baleful eyes at him, and all of Vince’s protestations dried up. He walked into the house and into the kitchen, as if on autopilot. His feet knew where to go, even as his brain wasn’t responding.

He sat the box on the bar. Lanny walked around it, topped up his drink and poured one for Vince. He slid it over to him. He did all this without looking at Vince.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Lanny asked. There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his tone. There was nothing. His voice was completely devoid of emotion.

“I brought you your things and-” Vince’s voice caught in his throat. He couldn’t even say it, so he just fished the key from his pocket, set it on the counter next to the tumbler of whiskey, and pushed it towards Lanny.

Lanny stared at it, uncomprehendingly.

Vince grabbed his drink, clumsily sloshing the liquid over the lip where it ran down his wrist and soaked into the cuff of his shirt. The rest of it, he gulped down. He grimaced at the burn but relished it at the same time. He knew it was a bad idea. He’d hardly eaten, but he couldn’t face this sober. He’d thought he could, but he’d been wrong.

“So that’s it, then,” Lanny said flatly, eyes never leaving the key.

“Is that- Isn’t that what we decided? To part ways?”

“We did. But I didn’t expect it to be quite so…”

“What, Lanny?” Vince asked, irritation and frustration coiling in his stomach. This hadn’t been his doing.

He drained his glass without even wincing, like it was water and not single malt.

“Final? Permanent?” Lanny paused, studying his empty glass before settling on a word. “Painful.”

A sharp, bitter bark of a laugh slipped passed Vince’s lips. “A decade, Lawrence. Ten fucking years and it never occurred to you that this might hurt?”

“Don’t- Don’t do that, Vin… You know me- No. No, I never thought it- we’d…”

Lanny faltered, eyes flashing up to look briefly at Vince. All the anger drained out of him, leaving Vince feeling deflated, which was much like what Lanny looked like.

The man had never even contemplated this could ever happen. Vince’s traitorous heart clenched with emotion he didn’t want to feel anymore.

“Did you ever think about our future?” Vince whispered, coming around the bar. He poured himself another two fingers then held the bottle out in offer to Lanny. Lanny waved him off.

“If I have any more, I’m liable to say or do something stupid,” Lanny mumbled. Vince laughed without malice.

“Never stopped you when you were sober. Why stop now?” Vince wanted Lanny to do something stupid, to let his mouth run away without thought. Vince needed Lanny to finish breaking his heart. This - them together, drinking, chatting - was too normal.

Vince had thought he was able to slink off with his tail between his legs, but here he was, getting drunk with Lanny, like it was any other night and not goodbye. He was two drinks in and Lanny obviously a few more.

He ignored Lanny and poured the last of the whiskey into his tumbler.

“Drink. Let’s finish this.” His voice was cold and aloof even in his own ears. He wasn’t unaware of the double meaning of his words. He’d meant for them to sting, but they were double-edged, cutting him just as deeply.

Lanny swayed, but obediently took a sip.

“I thought we were forever,” Lanny muttered, more to his drink than to Vince. It took Vince a second to realise that Lanny was answering the question Vince had put to him earlier.

“You thought we’d- what? Tour? Perform? Forever?” It should have been funny but Vince nearly choked on the words. He was well on his way to being drunk.

Lanny shook his head before Vince finished speaking and continued long after he’d fallen silent. He’d set down his glass and was leaning heavily against the counter, head hanging between his braced arms.

“No. No… I wasn’t sure, professionally. I didn’t really… care? About that. I didn’t- don’t- think about the future much, Vin. But I always thought- I always thought- you and me…” 

Lanny trailed off and it was only in the following silence that Vince realised the man was crying. Vince didn’t want to care. He wanted to finish his drink and calmly walk away, leaving Lanny to his tears and misery. God knew, he had his own waiting for him back home.

But where Lanny was concerned, Vince had never had much immunity. Vince set his drink down and stepped to Lanny’s side.

“Come on,” he said softly, touching Lanny’s back. It had the opposite effect than intended. Lanny’s breath hitched and he began to cry, silently but earnestly.

“You’re drunk,” Vince continued, trying to stay remote and clinical. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He pulled one of Lanny’s limp arms around his shoulders and tucked himself close to the man. He wrapped an arm around Lanny’s waist and steered them towards Lanny’s bedroom.

“I’m- I’m so- So sorry…” Lanny forced out through catching breaths. 

Vince shushed him. His throat was tightening. He shouldn’t have accepted that first drink, let alone the second. He was bending. He could feel the weight of years, of feelings, of the decade-long habit of forgiving Lanny threatening to break him.

They reached Lanny’s familiar room. It was cool and dark and welcoming. He gently deposited Lanny into the bed, boneless and unmoving. He sighed and decided that before he left, he’d get a glass of water to leave by the bed. Lanny was going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. He winced at this uncontrollable urge to take care of this man who had shown time and time again how little regard he had for Vince’s own welfare.

He fetched the water glass from Lanny’s bathroom and some paracetamol from the medicine cabinet. If he was going to do this, he’d do it right.

When he returned to the bed, Lanny had wriggled out of his jeans and was sprawled, long limbs tan against the pale sheets. Vince sighed as he sat down.

“Wake up,” he demanded, nudging Lanny in the side. 

Lanny jerked and drunkenly propped himself up on an elbow. Vince held out first the pills, then the water. Lanny swallowed them down without question or complaint, then handed the glass back to Vince. He collapsed onto his back, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

Vince studied Lanny, lingering. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want this to be it.

To delay, he went and refilled the glass, turning off the bathroom light that had been the only thing illuminating the bedroom. He felt his way to the bed, carefully setting the glass on the bedside table.

He sat down again. He didn’t know why. If he didn’t leave now, he’d never be able to walk away.

He sighed and turned to go, bracing his hands on his knees for leverage, but his movement was halted by the lightest touch to the center of his back. Vince closed his eyes, but stayed still.

Lanny’s fingers trailed down his spine, barely there. It was more a memory of a touch than anything happening in the moment. Vince half expected to turn only to find Lanny asleep and the sensation all in his drunk and desperate mind. He didn’t want to know so he didn’t move.

“Do you remember our first night together? That god-awful hotel room?” Lanny’s voice was more breath than sound.

Vince remembered. There’d only been one bed. They’d hardly known each other - known  _ of  _ each other, but were practically strangers - but that night had felt more like a reunion, like he’d known Lanny his entire life.

“I know you can’t forgive me, Vince, but… just for tonight. Stay. Lay here next to me so we can remember it like this, like it all began…” 

It was drunken rambling, but it resonated inside Vince’s chest, the request touching something inside him that he hadn’t even known he needed. He already knew he was going to acquiesce. Eyes still closed, he nodded, knowing Lanny wouldn’t be able to see it. But he’d be able to feel it.

Lanny’s hand circled around Vince’s wrist and he let himself be pulled down, laying on his back beside Lanny. He toed off his shoes. The sound of them hitting the floor was too loud in the dark room.

It was only after the second thud that panic rose, clawing like a living thing in his throat. It was too much, too intimate, and his body took notice. He focused on breathing - in and out, in and out. He drew each simple, automatic action out. He only had to wait until Lanny fell asleep-

“Vince…” Lanny rasped, voice broken and rough from crying.

Vince looked over, startled to find Lanny looking at him, eyes wide enough to glint with the little light in the room - two dark shining spots in the flat black of the rest of the room. The rush of fear left Vince feeling disconnected from his body, so when Lanny rolled towards him, it was as if he was merely observing the scene.

Lanny blindly touched him with trembling fingers - shaking with drink or uncertainty or emotion, Vince didn’t know. Lanny’s hand was soft. He touched Vince’s chest, orienting himself, ghosting his palm up, over Vince’s throat to the back of his neck.

Then he was embracing Vince, pulling him into a hug. Vince held himself stiff and apart. It didn’t feel like it was happening to him. This wasn’t something Lanny would ever do, not when sober, not when in his right mind.

The man pressed himself up against Vince’s chest, breath shaking, heart pounding hard enough that Vince could feel it in counterpoint to his own racing pulse.

“Don’t leave me,” Lanny whispered against Vince’s chest.

Lanny ran his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Vince’s neck. He pressed fingertips to the skin above Vince’s collar. He deliberately dragged his hand down his back, as if memorising the curve of it. He gathered the material of Vince’s shirt in his fist and inhaled deeply, breath hitching. He didn’t say ‘please’ but his every action screamed it.

Vince broke, arm clutching against Lanny’s back and holding him in return.

Neither of them said anything. It was enough to hold each other. They’d always been better at acting than communicating. For the moment, it was enough. It felt like acknowledgement. It felt like forgiveness. It felt like an admission.

It felt like goodbye.

 

\---

 

Vince woke gradually, consciousness coming in gentle, lapping waves at the edges of his mind. He’d slept deeply and was reluctant to surface. He was warm and comfortable. There was a pleasant weight against his side and on his chest. He turned his head and inhaled, the first coherent thought swimming to the surface: Lanny.

The previous night came back to him in a rush. He half-believed it to be a dream, but his senses were telling him otherwise.

He opened his eyes to a familiar room from an unfamiliar angle. He was in Lanny’s bed. Lanny was cuddled up against him, head on his shoulder, arm thrown carelessly around Vince’s middle.

Vince’s first instinct was to disentangle himself and flee. He didn’t think Lanny would appreciate waking to find them in such an intimate embrace.

His second instinct was also to disentangle himself and flee, but for rather different reasons. He needed to pee.

He carefully rolled Lanny onto his back, sliding his arm out from under the man’s head. He bid a hasty retreat to the restroom. He relieved himself and then washed his hands, splashing water over his face, rinsing his mouth out. He recognised this for what it was. He was delaying. 

He bent over the vanity and stared at his reflection. Who was this man looking back out at him? Would he never learn his lesson? He sneered at the stranger and the stranger sneered back in mutual disgust.

He wouldn’t run. He would look Lanny in the face when he took his leave. After last night, it felt like there was a chance, someday, that they may salvage a friendship from this wreckage. It was comforting to know that Lanny dreaded separation as much as he did.

But Vince needed time. He needed to fall out of love, if that was possible. He couldn’t continue like they had been: Lanny pulling him just close enough that Vince couldn’t look away, but neither was he allowed any closer.

Vince heard rustling from the bedroom. He braced himself and quietly opened the door just in case Lanny was still asleep.

What greeted him was entirely unexpected.

Lanny had rolled onto his stomach, his face buried in the pillow Vince had slept on, and he was sobbing. His shoulders shook violently. Ugly, ragged gasps tore from Lanny’s throat, audible even with the pillow muffling the sounds. His legs moved mindlessly, uselessly folding and then straightening, as if his emotional distress was physically hurting him. It was the restless, writhing movement of someone desperate for relief from their agony.

Vince stood frozen, watching this display. He’d never seen Lanny show any emotion other than anger to this degree. The man was usually laconic to a fault. Without thought, Vince's legs brought him to the bedside. He sat and touched Lanny’s back. He didn’t know what to do but he couldn’t watch the man he loved fall apart like this.

Lanny gasped at his touch, then cried even harder if possible. Vince ran his hand up and down Lanny’s back, helplessly.

“What can I do? Lanny… Talk to me. You’re scaring me.”

Lanny heaved in a breath and let it out slowly, shakily. Vince continued stroking Lanny’s back, breathing in sync with him, matching his movements with each inhale and exhale.

Finally, Lanny turned back over, eyes red and puffy. Vince wiped the dampness from his cheeks.

“You’re still here,” Lanny whispered. “I thought…”

“I considered it…” Vince admitted with a shrug. “But I didn’t think I could live with myself, doing that to you.”

A complicated flash of emotions crossed Lanny’s face, then he was reaching for Vince.

“Vin-”

His hand was on the back of Vince’s neck, pulling him down. Vince braced himself, arms to either side of Lanny’s face. He couldn’t breathe. He’d dreamed about this, fantasised about this… Surely Lanny wasn’t doing what he thought-

Lanny paused with mere inches between them, his eyes searching Vince’s face. Vince could see the different shades of brown in Lanny’s eyes, the familiar lines of Lanny’s face seen from a new perspective. Lanny’s eyes locked on Vince’s lips and the room swayed, gravity shifting vertiginously.

“Lawrence, for god’s sake…” Vince’s pleaded, exhaling the last of his precious air. He was going to suffocate if Lanny didn’t  _ do _ something; anything. Reject him or kiss him. God, he prayed Lanny was going to kiss him.

God, for once, listened to Vince’s aching prayer.

Lanny’s lips were pliant and slightly chapped against his, mouth closed in a deliberate kiss. It wasn’t much more than a careful press of lips, brief and chaste, but Vince sucked in a breath like a drowning man when Lanny pulled back.

Lanny’s gaze was sober and lucid, looking straight into Vince’s eyes. He released his hold on Vince and ran his hand around to Vince’s chest, fingers deftly popping open the first button of Vince’s shirt. He slipped fingertips beneath the fabric, touching the hollow of Vince’s neck, his clavicle, then lower - nails lightly scratching over his breast bone. 

Vince’s heart pounded in his ears as Lanny dragged his fingers back up. He closed his eyes and arched his neck, allowing access, his world narrowing down to the sensation of Lanny touching him. Lanny traced Vince’s jaw, to his chin, thumb brushing over Vince’s lower lip. Vince tipped his face back down and kissed the pad of Lanny’s thumb.

He opened his eyes and let Lanny see everything: the want, the lust, the love. He shifted and mirrored Lanny’s gesture, thumb dragging over Lanny’s mouth. He darted his tongue out, licking both his lips and Vince’s thumb.

“Christ-” Vince breathed.

They both moved towards each other, Lanny’s arms circling around Vince and one of Vince’s arms gathering Lanny closer. The second kiss was just as breathless and deliberate as the first, but Lanny sighed and something inside Vince opened, letting Lanny in. He tilted his head and Lanny’s tongue met Vince’s, sliding slickly and tantalisingly against one another.

Lanny moaned and tried to pull Vince on top of him, but Vince pulled back, breaking the kiss.

“Lanny, what-” Vince lost the train of his thoughts because Lanny was flushed, eyes glazed; aroused.

“Vin… Vince… I’ve been such a fool. I- fuck…” Lanny screwed his eyes shut. “How could I be so blind to this?”

He looked at Vince again and let his arms fall to the bed, open and vulnerable underneath Vince.

“Please… tell me I’m not too late. Tell me you still love me, because I- I love you more that I thought possible. I didn’t know. I didn’t know until you’d gone. I’ve been choking on it- the absence of you-” Lanny babbled, but Vince cut him off by gripping Lanny’s chin, eyes narrowing. 

“And if I told you I didn’t?” Vince said. Vince’s head urged caution, but his heart… his heart-

Lanny let out a shaky breath. “I wouldn’t blame you. How could you after what I-”

Vince shifted himself to lay on top of Lanny, cutting him off. They looked into each other’s eyes. There was no denying this now. Lanny was hard. Vince was hard. Lanny’s confession was still hanging in the air between them, waiting to be picked up or discarded.

“I love you,” he whispered against Lanny’s lips, but didn’t kiss him. “What do you want, Lanny?”

Lanny’s hands slid up Vince’s arms, around his back, down his spine as Lanny considered.

“You,” he finally answered. “Us. Everything we had and this.”

He arched up and pressed his mouth against Vince’s. It was the right answer. Vince kissed him back with every ounce of love he felt for the man. In the warm morning light, there was no place to hide, but Lanny didn’t seem to care. 

Vince let Lanny set the pace, expecting a morning of slow, chaste kisses in bed. But Lanny pulled Vince down and they kissed and touched as clothing was pulled and pushed and shed. Skin to skin, breath to breath, hands touching, bodies moving together as if they’d been doing this for years.

Vince twined his fingers with Lanny’s and thrust slowly against him. The way Lanny shuddered and gasped under him was something Vince had witnessed countless times, but he’d never been the  _ cause  _ of these reactions. It was a heady feeling and better than any dream, any idle musing. He wouldn’t ever give this up without a fight.

“Fuck, Lanny-” Vince gasped, close but unwilling to leave Lanny behind.

“Vin, I- God, I love you,” Lanny moaned, freeing his hands and grabbing Vince’s hips and grinding up into him.

Vince ran his fingers into Lanny’s hair and kissed him, kissed him,  _ kissed him _ until they came apart together.

Vince lay boneless next to Lanny in the aftermath. He felt changed. His whole world was askew. Gravity had shifted. He studied Lanny’s profile, lips parted as he panted.

Lanny looked exactly the same and a small, conditioned, fearful part of Vince clenched in defense.

But then Lanny turned his head, opening his eyes. He saw Vince and smiled. Familiar, yet entirely new. Vince breathed deep and smiled back.

_Lie down on the bed, you’re all I ever wanted_

_and worth dying for too_

**Author's Note:**

> For my girl, Chiara. I love you.


End file.
